The Ice Planet
January 27, 2012
January 26, 2012
By Ed West
Telegraph
January 26 2012
In 2006 the Danish newspaper Ekstra Bladet began an investigation into the curious rise of the Icelandic bank Kaupthing, which had come from a small community on a volcanic island and become an unlikely giant, buying assets across Denmark. The paper found that the bank had links with Russian oligarchs and tax havens and, more worrying, may have overstretched themselves.
Kaupthing sued them. The paper defended its journalism, and the Danish Press Council rejected the bank’s complaint. But then the bewildered Danish editors were informed that the bank was now suing them – in London, which because Bladet was available in Britain (thanks to the internet), they could do. The newspapermen came from a country where a £25,000 libel suit was considered expensive, but soon racked up legal costs of £1 million in London before the case even came to court. Ekstra Bladet agreed to pay substantial damages to Kaupthing and print an apology.
A few months later Kaupthing collapsed, along with the other Icelandic banks, Iceland’s GDP fell by 65 per cent, and Britain and Holland demanded compensation equivalent of the entire Iceland economy. As Nick Cohen writes in his study of modern censorship, You Can’t Read This Book: “As events were to turn out, the English legal profession had also stopped the British investors who were to lose deposits worth $30 billion in Iceland from learning that there was a whiff of danger around the country’s banks, although no lawyer showed remorse about that.”
At the risk of winning the Order of the Brown Nose, Cohen is perhaps the most insightful, thought-provoking and entertaining political writer in Britain today, and comes from the honest tradition of English liberal thought that threads from John Milton to John Stuart Mill and George Orwell; for that reason he has fallen out with the dishonest liberal tradition, a split that began with the fatwa issued against Salman Rushdie on Valentine’s Day, 1989. He has that rare trait of being fair to all parties, refreshing in the tribal atmosphere of political debate, which has no doubt angered sectarians on his side.
Book on sale here
Carry on reading here
by Nick Cohen at January 26, 2012 07:40 PM
The Spectator
28 January 2012
You Can’t Read This Book by Nick Cohen Fourth Estate, £12.99, pp. 224, ISBN 9780007308903
By Hugo Rifkind
The problem with Nick Cohen’s very readable You Can’t Read This Book is the way that you can, glaringly, read this book.
This isn’t quite as glib an observation as it sounds. Cohen’s central point is that the censors’ pens did not fall down with the Berlin Wall. And yet here he is, very obviously free to tell us about them.
Cohen is a rambunctious pessimist. His style involves mustering a degree of anger for a page or two, often through an outrage only loosely connected to the matter at hand (Islam’s treatment of women, segregation in the Deep South, the crimes of Roman Polanski, for example) and then, once the wheels of our righteous indignation are drawn back to the point where they start clicking, he lets go, and lets rip, and woof, it’s awesome.
Strictly speaking there are three essays here. The first, ‘God’, deals with religious censorship; the second, ‘Money’, with legal censorship; and the third, ‘State’, with the internet. Religion takes up over half the book, and starts with Salman Rushdie’s The Satanic Verses. ‘I can place public figures of my generation by where they stood on Rushdie, ‘ Cohen writes. He describes a ‘blame the victim’ mentality, evinced by the treatment of Ayaan Hirsi Ali after the murder of her film-making partner Theodore Van Gogh, and by the Danish Jyllands-Posten Muhammad cartoons of 2005. Fear, he argues, has made us dishonest. Those who consider themselves brave for railing against bigoted fundamentalist Christianity are in fact more cowardly for so glaringly ignoring those other fundamentalists who might put up a fight. ‘Censorship is at its most effective when victims pretend it doesn’t exist.’
This is all good stuff, although Cohen does have a tendency to argue as though he were in a world in which hardly anybody ever says anything critical of Islam, and those who do are invariably making rational points. People who are offended by blasphemy, he notes, consider it akin to libel: the spreading of an untruth. In fact, he points out, it’s more like an invasion of privacy, forcing them to consider arguments they’d rather not. From this, the law has no business protecting anybody.
The essay on the law, and the ability of the rich and powerful to bully their way out of scrutiny, is probably the strongest.
Cohen is that rare and essential breed, the unapologetic hack who wants more invasion of privacy, more investigation, more protection for whistleblowers. He draws a direct link between the decline of media profitability and the financial collapse – the press, he believes, was a watchdog that didn’t bark. He blames this in part on the British courts, and their tendency to help the powerful milk their critics dry. As with those cowed to silence by Islamist terror, censorship here is present in the projects which, for fear of a similar outcome, are never begun.
Where Cohen flounders is when he tackles the internet. In a section about the writer Simon Singh’s libel battle with the British Chiropractic Association, he’s full of approval of the online sceptical communities who begin to make life a misery for all chiropractors, in Singh’s support, reporting them to advertising authorities for making outlandish claims on their websites. Yet isn’t this exactly the sort of thing he’s been railing against, just done by those of whom he approves?
Cohen regards it as naive to think that the web empowers only the powerless; it also empowers those with power already.
He’s right, of course, but it empowers both equally, which is progress. ‘Putin and his mafia friends do not worry overmuch that their opponents can publish somewhere in cyberspace, ‘ he writes, ‘as long as they cannot break away from the fringe and reach the mainstream.’ This was obviously written before a blogger, Alexey Navalny, became the very mainstream face of opposition to Vladimir Putin, but the sentiment is in any case wrong. The great boon of the web is that distinctions between the mainstream and the esoteric crumble. How can Cohen not see that? Maybe it’s an age thing.
But for the most part, he is a deft guide to the frontiers of freedom of the written word, and a welcome reminder that, if you want to find the essential battlefields, Max Mosley and Hugh Grant are entirely the wrong people to ask.
You can read this book, and you probably should.
You Can’t Read This Book: Censorship in an Age of Freedom is available at Amazon and on Kindle here and in the bookshops
by Nick Cohen at January 26, 2012 05:36 PM
By Laurie Penny.
New Statesman, 25 January 2012
The first thing I learned in journalism school was not to say anything bad about the police. If I did, even if I’d seen abuses of power with my own eyes, I could face a suit for damages that would ruin me, my editors and whatever paper had been unfortunate enough to publish my work.
Nick Cohen’s new treatise on censorship, You Can’t Read This Book, airs one of the more painful secrets of the British press – the slide, especially over the last 15 years, towards a culture where archaic libel laws give the wealthy and privileged “the power to enforce a censorship that the naive supposed had vanished with the repressions of the old establishment.”
I recently spent some time in the United States, where the cultural attitude to freedom of the press is rather different. A country that produced Fox News and allows presidential attack ads to run on television can hardly be held up as a gold standard for fair and unbiased reporting, but if American journalism lacks deference, British journalism is crippled by a surfeit of it.
Carry on reading
by Nick Cohen at January 26, 2012 09:14 AM
January 25, 2012
By Julie Burchill
Prospect 25 January 2012 Issue 191
Nick Cohen’s books are like the best Smiths songs; however depressing the content, the execution is so shimmering, so incandescent with indignation that the overall effect is transcendently uplifting. In 2007’s What’s Left, the last book which I felt compelled to order by the dozen and press upon whoever came to the door (a few Jehovah’s Witnesses went away with more than they bargained for) he examined the truly repulsive spectacle of “how the liberal left of the 20th century came to support the far right of the 21st.” That is, how the enemies of sexism, racism, homophobia and religious mania came to embrace all of those evils in their eagerness to suck up to the last beacon of anti-Americanism: political Islam.
Still, it wasn’t the first time that a strand of Islamism had found itself in bed with an unlikely playmate. In his new book You Can’t Read This Book: Censorship in an Age of Freedom (Fourth Estate)—which deals with the rise of self-appointed censors from jihadis to judges — Cohen reminds us that the apartheid regime in South Africa banned The Satanic Verses, and that Salman Rushdie had to pull out of a trip to Johannesburg to discuss the censorship of opponents of white rule because of death threats from South African Islamists.
Closer to home, Cohen tells the story of a band of Asian women who ran hostels for battered wives under the banner of Women Against Fundamentalism finding themselves in the middle of warring Nation Front thugs and religious maniacs. “The women never forgot the experience of seeing apparent enemies unite against them.”
In the unseemly struggle to stifle expression, an unholy smorgasbord of the silly and the sinister (to paraphrase the book’s dedicatee Christopher Hitchens) have linked arms to keep free speech at bay. While we congratulate ourselves on our unparalleled freedom to “be ourselves” we have in fact seen a greater curtailment of real freedom – to write a book, to name a name – than in any other time in recent history. Cohen traces the strange shift of fears in the newsrooms and publishing houses of the west. Modern writers in democratic countries, he argues, are not frightened of attacking politicians. The old deference has gone, and no editor stops journalists or comedians mocking their country’s leaders in the most vicious terms. But artists and reporters who boast of their willingness to “speak truth to power” quietly step back from offending religious fanatics who might kill them and, he adds, the super-rich, who might sue them.
Cohen really hits stride in the chapter The Racism of the Anti-Racists, a remix of the best bits of What’s Left? Once again that peculiar sort of modern white leftist is robustly fingered: the type of half wit, who had he come across his own poor grey-haired old mum being ravished by the late Osama bin Laden and the late Saddam Hussain, would have accused the hapless pensioner of being an agent provocateur of the American Zionist war machine. As it was, he had to make do with calling Ayaan Hirsi Ali a neo-con for daring to speak up for women’s rights. Such people go beyond chutzpah – the first bigots to ever accuse their own critics of bigotry when their own bigotry is highlighted.
Cohen also fast forwards to the brave swordsmen of today – Mosley, Goodwin, Marr, Clarkson, the footballers – and their fearless crusade to obstruct the press. The silly and the sinister join forces once more over super-injunctions to silence others – particularly women.
For years certain lefties have appeared to put more faith in unelected judges than elected politicians to make laws – no doubt something to do with not having to answer to the baying hoi polloi of the electorate. Cohen flays this theory with all the enthusiasm of Miss Whiplash dishing out an Old Bailey Lunchtime Special, fingering British justice as “a legal system that strained its sinews and besmirched its country’s good name to help rich men who thought they could get away with anything”. I remember once on a tour of Pompeii being told that prostitutes of the time were not allowed to speak to civilian, but were generously permitted to howl like dogs after dark to advertise themselves. Whoever would have dreamed that in the 21st century so many people – men and women – could have their voices literally taken from them once more.
You Can’t Read This Book: Censorship in an Age of Freedom is available on Amazon and in bookshops
by Nick Cohen at January 25, 2012 08:54 PM
By Ian Finlayson (£)
January 21 2012 12:01AM
Into the space vacated by the controversialist Christopher Hitchens we might recruit the sardonic, sceptical columnist Nick Cohen. Here he takes on three mighty, repressive institutions — Religion, Money and the State — and exposes their counterfeit claims of safeguarding liberty, of doing away with censorship, for the empty words that they are in practice. Freedom of speech? Yes, you can write that novel, publish that cartoon — at risk of a fatwa, prison, a firewall, death or a superinjunction. Censorship is subtle and the illusions of freedom are underpinned by the realities of cultures, laws and constitutions, vigorously defended by entrenched interests. Net Utopians who point to information technology as their great hope are deluded, says Cohen. Freedom of speech is still a political struggle.
Fourth Estate, 330pp; £12.99; To buy this book for £11.69 visit thetimes.co.uk/bookshop or call 08452712134 or at Amazon here.
by Nick Cohen at January 25, 2012 10:22 AM
By Dominic Lawson (£)
You Can’t Read This Book on sale on Amazon (here) and in the bookshops too.
I t was — naturally — Oscar Wilde who remarked that he never read a book he was asked to review, because “it prejudices you so”. When the cover of one actually states “You can’t read this book”, the author is almost asking for such dismissive treatment, not because of the Wildean instinct in all of us, but because the title is so patently a stunt. Each of us is meant to think, “Yes, I jolly well can” — and buy the thing.
Nick Cohen is a writer who should not need such marketing ingenuity. He is one of the glories of British journalism: courageous, clear-thinking (when sober) and intellectually incorruptible. What’s Left?, his 2007 polemic, was a devastating broadside against the tendency of so-called liberals to offer support to the most reactionary Islamists, under the guise of anti-colonialism; the fury it engendered among Cohen’s former comrades on the left was testimony to its accuracy.
In his latest book, he links the increased protection afforded to religious movements under the banner of anti-discrimination with the global power of the English libel courts, to argue that we are in an age of diminished freedom of expression, despite the apparently iconoclastic effects of the internet.
Unfortunately, the most powerfully argued element in You Can’t Read This Book is not much more than a repetition of his earlier observations about the liberals’ betrayal of their own values. Again, he goes over the Salman Rushdie affair, now linking it to the case of Ayaan Hirsi Ali, the Somali exile whose tirades against the culture that caused her to be forcibly circumcised led one esteemed Guardian columnist to dismiss her as an “Enlightenment fundamentalist”.
Cohen is right to re-emphasise the fact that one consequence of the fatwa against Rushdie was to terrify western secularists who should have supported Hirsi Ali into pretending she doesn’t matter. As he notes, it took the creator of a television comedy show to explain why the western media would not show the cartoons of Mohammed that fuelled riots in 2006: when the American networks said they would not show the cartoons out of respect and tolerance to Islam, South Park’s creator Matt Stone observed, “No you’re not. You’re afraid of getting blown up.”
All this is true, and sad. Yet Cohen then goes over the top in equating the effects of terrorism with the journalist’s fear of libel actions. According to Cohen, the late Robert Maxwell’s “tactic of suing bookshops was not as violent a means of reprisal as the Islamists’ tactic of hitting them with bombs, but the intent was the same”. No, the intent of Ayatollah Khomeini was to have Rushdie, and all those who aided him, killed (as one of his translators was); Hirsi Ali still requires protection, after one of her collaborators was executed in an Amsterdam street. To compare that with the fear engendered by English civil law strikes me as exactly the sort of self-interested hysteria that Cohen rightly ridicules in those on the left who portrayed Tony Blair as an oppressive dictator.
It is similarly puzzling that Cohen describes the libel case brought by the neo-Nazi David Irving against the American historian Deborah Lipstadt as a “nadir” for “the English judiciary”, which, he claims, should never have allowed the case to proceed. While it is true that the defence cost Penguin (Lipstadt’s publisher) many thousands of pounds it failed to recover, it was under the forensic scrutiny of an English courtroom that Irving’s disreputable methods were comprehensively exposed in cross-examination. He lost not just the civil action, but every penny he had. Not exactly a nadir, I would have thought — except for Irving himself.
Cohen is right that the libel courts can be the way in which the wealthy attempt to intimidate the press into shying away from printing awkward truths about them; and as an old leftie he has a natural revulsion for the idea that the rich can buy justice unavailable to the ordinary man. Yet when I was an editor, it was not the libel actions of the wealthy I most feared, but those from poorer folk who had hired lawyers on contingency fees. At least with the wealthy, the newspaper knows it will get its costs back if it successfully defends the action.
Essentially, Cohen believes the law should intervene only when something said or written brings about “harm” and he then goes on to define harm in the narrowest possible terms, meaning actual physical violence or the threat of it. All else, he claims, is unwarranted censorship and an unacceptable restriction on our basic freedoms. Well, it’s an argument — but I wonder if Cohen himself truly believes it: last month he wrote a characteristically robust article demanding that the broadcasting regulator Ofcom take away the right of the Iranian-owned Press TV to broadcast here. I agree with him that this would be no great loss to the British viewing public, and it would also be satisfying to tweak the nose of the appalling Iranian regime. But it would still be an act of censorship — or, as Cohen’s publisher might put it: you can’t watch this.
Fourth Estate £12.99 ebook £12.74 pp224. Available at the Bookshop price of £10.99 (inc p&p) and £12.74 (ebook) on 0845 271 2135
by Nick Cohen at January 25, 2012 10:17 AM
January 22, 2012
It looks as if Robert Mugabe will die in his bed rather than in the prison cell where he so richly deserves to eke out his days. During his time as dictator of Zimbabwe, he has had just one intimation of the fear he has inspired in so many others.
On 30 October 1999, while Mugabe was visiting London, two men jumped in front of his car. A third stood behind, so the driver could not reverse away. A thin, neatly dressed Australian opened the passenger door. He held up his left hand, palm forward, to show that he was not carrying a gun. He laid his right hand on the tyrant’s shoulder and said: “Robert Mugabe, you are under arrest on charges of torture. I am now summoning the police.” Mugabe’s eyes popped, his jaw dropped and the blood drained from his face.
The police came, sure enough. But they showed their pinched priorities by arresting Peter Tatchell and his fellow gay activists. The moment is worth savouring, nevertheless. For a few seconds, Tatchell had succeeded in giving Mugabe a taste of how a just world would treat him.
Tatchell turns 60 this week. January 2012 also marks the 45th anniversary of his career as a human rights and gay rights activist. These labels have been so devalued I need to elaborate. Every respectable person claims to support human rights. In Bridget Jones’s Diary, Helen Fielding’s Mr Darcy was no longer the wealthy landowner of Jane Austen’s imagination but a wealthy human rights lawyer.
Carry on reading
by Nick Cohen at January 22, 2012 12:03 PM
January 20, 2012
In a pre-recorded episode 97 of Rum Doings, we don’t discuss this week’s SOPA activities because we recorded this weeks ago. But it’s the final part of our Judge Coxcombe trilogy, where we take questions from the audience. We begin with some real life, and then quickly get into cuddly character as we question Nick’s absence. We celebrate making money by letting things be free, and then impressively we DO talk about SOPA! We are prescient.
Then we turn to the Twitters to solve your woes. The choice between trifle and banana crunch! Whether Mark Kermode is a big twit (he is)! Dealing with txtspk! The future of newspapers! These exclamation marks feel inappropriate!
We ponder Kunstler, whether it’s okay to associate with people who like George Galloway, how marshmallows predict your future, and the hypothetical kitchen of Nicholas Mailer. And who will Baby Judith grow up to be?
We really do ask you to write a review on iTunes. It makes a massive difference, and helps other people to pay attention to the podcast. Thank you to everyone who has – we’ve some lovely reviews. The more that appear, the more likely iTunes is to take us more seriously. And keep on tweeting and so forth. Please – it’s the only thing we ask of you. And don’t forget to give us a million pounds.
Make sure to follow us on Twitter @rumdoings. If you want to email us, you can do that here. If you want to be a “fan” of ours on Facebook, which apparently people still do, you can do that here.
To get this episode directly, right click and save here. To subscribe to Rum Doings click here, or you can find it in iTunes here.
Or you can listen to it right here!
by John Walker at January 20, 2012 12:11 PM
January 19, 2012
I recently received the most extraordinary press release, ostensibly sent to me because I’m a games journalist, about the dangers of “Text Neck”. Often when you see something like this it’s a joke, a spoof that eventually links to a game. But this one was entirely serious.
This new phenomenon is caused by “frequent texting or looking down at your mobile device for extended periods of time”. And guess who says this? Why, it’s chiropractors. According to these bastions of medical science, “it is on the rise and is quickly becoming a global epidemic.” That’s honestly their quote.
Ignoring the notion that perhaps people’s propensity to read books for the last few thousand years might have generated similar symptoms, these not-doctors inform us that such activity can cause check soreness and headaches, and even arthritis! If left untreated. Of course. And how?
Why, you could use Topical BioMedics’ Topicin Pain Relief and Healing Cream! And what is Topicin, that this press release fails to mention? It’s a homeopathic remedy, and thus a tube of placebo.
On their website, which hilariously has blocked right-clicking, they state:
“Topricin’s patented homeopathic biomedicine technology is proven effective for arthritis and joint injuries, carpal tunnel and other neuropathies, lower back pain and muscle cramps, night leg cramps and restless leg syndrome.”
And what is their proof that their non-medicine containing medicine is effective, for both arthritis and restless leg syndrome? They don’t see fit to share that anywhere on their website. So I’ve contacted them asking for the relevant studies. I’m going to be most impressed to find out how the different creams are differently formulated to deal with specific types of pain in specific regions. Like your feet. Which have their own form of pain, it seems.
The company’s CEO, Lou Paradise, doesn’t appear to have any medical qualifications at all, but rather boasts many years researching his product. Confusingly, he appears to be convinced by both herbal remedies and homeopathy, which one might think directly contradict one another. However, he is a decorated marine who fought in Vietnam, which clearly adds a lot of credence to his claims.
The company’s COO curiously has the same last name as the CEO, and also doesn’t appear to carry any expertise within the medical field. The incredibly named Aurora Paradise focuses on marketing. Then there’s the Executive Vice President, Stephen Duricko, who, er, doesn’t have any medical qualifications, but did once work for an HMO!
And that’s their declared team. But hey, the people from the stock photos above them sure look cheery!
The rest of the press release explains how chiropractor, Richard Young, DC of South Carolina, likes to use Topricin products in his practice. Which is a perfect fit, since chiropractic treatment is bullshit too. But don’t want to resort to medicine? The press release has some handy tips!
-Raise your mobile device so it is aligned with your eyes when you read and text
-Take frequent breaks every 15 minutes and look straight ahead while tucking the chin back towards the neck every few minutes
-Stretch your hands: squeeze a stress ball and stretch your chest by standing up straight with your arms down at your side
For a long and happy texting life.
I was then offered samples of Topricin if I offered my mailing address. Instead I accidentally replied,
“Hi.
What a load of lies and nonsense.
Please remove me from your mailing list immediately.”
You can read the full press release below:
As electronic devices like smartphones, e-readers and tablets become the devices of choice for the tech crowd, add ‘text neck’ to your new digital dictionary.
Text neck results from frequent texting or looking down at your mobile device for extended periods of time and chiropractors say it is on the rise and is quickly becoming a global epidemic.
The repetitive stress injury caused by flexing of the neck for prolonged periods can result in tightness across the shoulder, cause headaches and neck soreness and can even result in permanent arthritic damage if left untreated.
Richard Young, DC, a chiropractor who practices at Young Chiropractic Clinic in Darlington, SC says the common factor in this type of neck condition is inflammation. The area around the muscle, ligament or nerve is inflamed, which means there is fluid in the tissue trying to aid the healing process.
Pain relief products such as Topical BioMedics’ Topricin Pain Relief and Healing Cream can help provide relief from symptoms of text neck.
Topricin Pain Relief and Healing Cream helps to heal the damage that is causing pain – naturally, with no grease or odor. The soothing cream contains eleven natural ingredients that target pain by stimulating the body’s healing process to reduce inflammation, detoxification and improving circulation to the injured area to relieve the symptoms of lower back, neck and shoulder pain.
Dr. Young uses Topricin as his preferred remedy to treat the symptoms of text neck and tells his patients to first apply Topricin to the affected area to reduce swelling in the muscle and ligament tissues.
Topricin is formulated for maximum absorption so Dr. Young’s patients can apply as much Topricin as they need with no fear of overuse or interferences with other medications.
“My patients find that Topricin immediately provides soothing relief from text neck. The product relaxes their muscle spasms, increases their mobility, reduces pain and helps to prevent scar tissue formation,” says Dr. Young. “Patients benefit greatly from the use of Topricin for text neck because it reduces their healing time and eliminates the necessity for a prolonged treatment plan.”
Here are some tips for preventing text neck:
-Raise your mobile device so it is aligned with your eyes when you read and text
-Take frequent breaks every 15 minutes and look straight ahead while tucking the chin back towards the neck every few minutes
-Stretch your hands: squeeze a stress ball and stretch your chest by standing up straight with your arms down at your side
Topricin is available in a convenient, on-the-go 2-ounce size ($16.95) and is just the right size to store in a purse, briefcase, backpack, first aid kit, glove compartment or sports bag. The product is also available in two larger sizes: 4-ounce jar ($24.95) and 8-ounce bottle ($39.95).
Topricin is available in pharmacies, natural food stores, and other fine retailers nationwide, including Whole Foods, Vitamin Shoppe, Vitamin World, Fred Meyer, Wegmans, and other retail stores throughout the U.S., as well as direct from the Topical BioMedics’ online store.
To learn more about Topricin, go to http://www/topricin.com
I’d be happy to provide you with samples of Topricin for your consideration. Please send me your mailing address and we’ll get the samples right out to you.
Please feel free to contact me if you have any questions at XXXXXXXXXX.
Many thanks in advance for your consideration.
by John Walker at January 19, 2012 12:01 PM
January 18, 2012
I’ve been bleating away on Twitter all day, probably to the horror of anyone who doesn’t follow me via RPS or Rum Doings, and making my opinions on SOPA and PIPA well known. Rather than repeating the definitions of these Acts, and why they’re the most dangerous infringements of free speech and a free internet imaginable, you can learn all that from here.
But there’s something I want to comment on specifically, and it doesn’t fit in a tweet. I’ve tried. Lots of times.
This line from Kotaku’s missive on why they haven’t blacked out their site as part of today’s international protest sums part of it up for me:
“It’s no wonder that an outfit like the League of Legends creators at Riot Games read that and worry that a livestream of a great LoL match could be found in violation of SOPA the moment someone starts singing the lyrics of a copyrighted song on it. Is that really the kind of stifling of the Internet the writers of SOPA and PIPA are seeking?”
Yes! Yes it is. That is precisely the internet they’re seeking. It seems so outlandish that so many news outlets are phrasing it as if it’s a reductio ad absurdum, throwing their hands up and saying, “This bill’s so crazy it would lead to these wacky outcomes!” as if such a result is a parody of the poorly written nature of the bill.
This is to so frighteningly miss the point as to be all but helping those crafting such bills. By reducing the very intent of terrified industries – they who built their empires around plastic squares and discs that have since been rendered pointless – to a perceived exaggeration, something apparently so laughable as to parody the bills’ intentions, is to ignore the reality of what we are facing.
The terrified industries, built up around an illusion of digital ideas having physical forms, are desperate. Like a dying wild animal, trapped in a corner, they are lashing out with their last strength, and they will do anything, go to any extent, to survive. But it doesn’t matter how many children and grandmothers they sue, how many bands and singers they bankrupt and ring out to dry, how big their lies, nor how outrageous their political influence, the reaction is always the same: “They’ll be banning us from singing in the shower next!”
Yes. They will. They are so desperate for control in a world that is increasingly recognising their irrelevance that they are attempting to shut down and dominate everything they can. To believe that the RIAA, BPI, etc would not charge you for humming as you drive if they could is to idiotically misunderstand the sheer bat-shit lunatic desperation we’re dealing with here. Yes, ha ha, what a silly notion. But to think it any more silly than their attempts to sue the creators of the first mp3 players, or huge efforts to ban the home VCR, is to woefully miss the point. These are the same people who bullied the world into accepting ridiculous crippling region codes on DVDs, and are able to force manufacturers to not allow customers to skip their nonsensical threatening messages at the beginning of every legally purchased film. They are the people asking us to spy on our fellow cinema goers, and turn them in if we see them filming. They are the reason your HDMI cable is capable of stopping you from watching content they decide they don’t want shown.
We’re dealing with archaic industries that were built around the impossibility of that which is now possible. Their time is up, and they know it. But they are so massive, so enormously powerful, that they are going to do everything imaginable to defend their fortunes. And that’s why we have SOPA and PIPA. They know it won’t beat piracy, because it’s immediately obvious to anyone with half a clue that it cannot. But it will give them power over the internet, that all history shows they will abuse to the most ludicrous degree. It will give them terrible control of our internet, which is presently the thing that terrifies them more than anything else: free.
The most insane thing is, they don’t quite know what for. They just know that it’s the means by which their business models are rendered pointless, and they know they currently can’t control it. They’re scared, so they’re doing something. And if you think that’s hyperbole, or plain paranoia, take the example of DRM.
DRM doesn’t work. There’s no argument about that at all. It is code that prevents a game from working properly, but only for those who bought a legitimate copy. Those who have pirated it will have the DRM disabled, and never encounter it. So it’s software that makes games awkward for customers to enjoy. That’s entirely what it does. But it’s on almost every game, from almost every publisher. And what do they do when it is shown not to do anything? They make it even worse for legitimate customers, while of course not affecting pirates in any meaningful way. This is how we end up with Ubisoft’s idiotic “always on” DRM, where legitimate customers must have a permanent internet connection constantly sending signals back and forth to and from Ubisoft, or the game switches itself off. Pirates don’t have to have the internet on to play, and their copies work just fine. People who bought the game have a version so crippled that it’s barely functional. Why is that? What’s the logic behind it? There isn’t one. There can’t be one. It’s so obviously ridiculous that no one even tries to defend it. Instead they scream about unevidenced, and usually entirely fictional, revenues lost to pirates, which is a confusing response to the question, “Why are you doing this when it doesn’t stop piracy?” They’re doing something because they’re scared.
SOPA and PIPA are something because they’re scared. And it’s a really big something. One of the biggest, stupidest somethings ever seen. This is a something so big that people are looking at the Digital Millennium Copyright Act fondly – one of the most heinous corporate-bought acts of all time, and suddenly we’re feeling nostalgic for it, because it at least offered safe harbour as it robbed the planet of its basic rights. From pure fear, and unimaginable amounts of money, SOPA and PIPA have been drafted and put forward by the entertainment industry, because they think it will at least give them a sense of control, a greased pole to grab onto as they continue their tumble into the pit. Whatever they don’t like, whatever alternate business models that might spring up to rival them via it, whatever the next massive surge of sharing is born of, they’ll be able to have it stopped at their demand. Yes, as they crush all innovation, they’ll also crush their own potential future models of income. But don’t forget these are the same bodies that fought with all their might to have the VCR banned – one of their biggest sources of revenue, then and in its many incarnations since.
So Kotaku, and just about everyone else, those outlandish wild fantasy directions you can see the wording of these acts leading toward? They’re not proof that the acts are poorly worded – they’re what the acts are intended to allow. And as you parody this, you make it easier and easier for people to ignore it, and those industry dreams to become our reality.
This is why I have stared in horror and disappointment today, as site after site who had been issuing editorials and declaring their disgust, failed to do something so simple as go dark for one day. “But we’re news outlets, we report the news, not take part in protests,” they all answered, as if their not being able to report the news for one day wasn’t exactly the point. As if failing to serve their readers wasn’t the very purpose of the protest, not a reason to scab their way out of it. The idea was to piss people off, let readers down, fail to be there in a useful form, because that is the future of every one of them if these acts get in. They literally won’t be able to run as they do. They would be gone, and today was supposed to be about showing people what that would look like. But rather than risk the ad revenue, lose readers, or whatever other motivation kept them online, they chose to not be part of the news, but report the news, somewhat missing the irony that it’s their own future they were supposed to be fighting for. They stayed up, and they said, “Aren’t these acts silly! They’d let…” exactly what is going to happen, happen.
by John Walker at January 18, 2012 08:43 PM
January 13, 2012
It couldn’t be more timely. Two days after I kicked off a bit of a debate about whether it’s appropriate for writers to work for free for professional publications (no, it’s not), Imagine Publishing’s website NowGamer has launched a “competition” to find someone who’ll write for their site, on a regular basis, for no money.
Dressed up as an act of altruistic generosity, the site suggests that this will be an amazing opportunity for a writer to receive exposure on their site. What they don’t point out is how it’s a great way for the site to add regular content without paying for it. Content that will generate them ad revenue, and go toward paying the salaries of their staff. Servants get paid. This is a position below servant.
The title reads:
“Love games? Got a voice? Then you need a blog on NowGamer!”
No you don’t. You really don’t need a blog on a site that is looking to take advantage of someone’s desire for exposure at the expense of their dignity. This refrain that it’s “good for your CV” is such a wretched thing to be said. SO IS A PAID JOB.
There’s no need for me to repeat all the reasons why writing for free is wrong, both for you, and for everyone else in the industry – they’re in the post below.
It’s shocking to me to see a publication being so brazen about what I can only see as exploitation. Perhaps they’ve convinced themselves that they’re doing good in giving someone “exposure”, and have so far avoided thinking about how they would never allow themselves to receive the same treatment.
And what they call a “blog” is in fact filed on the site as a “column”. The column is generally the best paid part of any site, since it’s something given to a specific writer that the site or magazine specifically wants to be writing regularly for them. It’s not a feature any staff writer can fill. It’s something peculiar to that writer, with their name at the top, and thus generally they are paid for at a premium. The cheek of wanting someone to fill such a role for them, without paying, is astonishing.
They sell this by saying,
“Having a published blog is a great way of getting a start in videogames journalism, or you may just have a lot to say about games and want a platform for your opinion. Either way, you’ll be writing alongside some of the industry’s best games journalists.”
Yes, and they’ll be being paid. You won’t. What form of “alongside” is that, exactly?
As the excellent Steve Hogarty pointed out on Twitter, if you want a blog you can get one. You don’t need it to be generating money to pay these guys’ wages.
Imagine – this is shameful. Please stop this immediately. If you cannot afford to pay for a new columnist on your site, I suggest not advertising for one. Especially in a way designed to trick young writers into devaluing their (and thus everyone else’s) words and work to zero.
Edit: Astonishingly, one of the NowGamer writers explains that doing this is “not work”, because it’s a blog. That’s why it’s free. Good grief.
by John Walker at January 13, 2012 12:15 PM
In episode 96 of Rum Doings, the second part of our Judge Coxcombe Trilogy, we don’t discuss whether Windows 8 will be Microsoft’s Window’s Vista, but we do contemplate whether Nick can love himself.
We celebrate the remarkable hero, BushMan, remember when people liked Adrian Chiles, then look forward to seeing Eurovision in a rat-infested shed. Then things fall apart as we disagree on the colours of the days of the week.
Would we teleport? How come Star Trek was so rubbish at computers? Was Ted Heath asexual? And who will be the next leaders of various UK parties? And American. And Russian. We confirm the end of the world, and then it gets really boring when Nick and Martin go on and on about programming languages.
We really do ask you to write a review on iTunes. It makes a massive difference, and helps other people to pay attention to the podcast. Thank you to everyone who has – we’ve some lovely reviews. The more that appear, the more likely iTunes is to take us more seriously. And keep on tweeting and so forth. Please – it’s the only thing we ask of you. And don’t forget to give us a million pounds.
Make sure to follow us on Twitter @rumdoings. If you want to email us, you can do that here. If you want to be a “fan” of ours on Facebook, which apparently people still do, you can do that here.
To get this episode directly, right click and save here. To subscribe to Rum Doings click here, or you can find it in iTunes here.
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by John Walker at January 13, 2012 10:12 AM
January 12, 2012
A lot of people have responded to the list below by disputing the not working for free clause. I wanted to expand on it a little.
First of all, it’s important to note I wrote “for professionals”. i.e. sites that make money. That’s the crucial point. Writing for sites that don’t make money for free is a good idea. Amateur sites, whether they have ambition to become professional or not, are a great place for writers to cut their teeth. They’re a thing that didn’t exist when I was starting out. In fact, my career began in the gap between the popularity of zines, and the existence of gaming websites. So it’s something I know isn’t necessary for success, but certainly very helpful.
Writing for such sites is a good way to practice your craft, learn the skills of writing, and get noticed. Exposing that work in public is great too, because you’ll get used to feedback. It’s something you can refer to when contacting editors, and it’s also something editors may well be reading themselves.
But it doesn’t need to be an established site. Your own blog is a great place to be writing. The important thing is that you’re writing, getting better, and building up a stock of links you can send to editors. When you email an editor to suggest they give you work, you pick out two or three of your best pieces and you put those links in there. It’s an instant way to prove yourself.
So, to be incredibly clear: there is nothing wrong with writing for free for non-profit making sites. (So long as that site is not making profit for everyone involved.)
BUT, there IS something incredibly wrong with writing for free for sites that do make money. For the reasons I gave in the tips list. And it doesn’t matter how many people tell me it was how they got started, I still absolutely believe it to be wrong.
Certainly people will get started that way – some people get past the exploitation stage. But it is being exploited, and if you’re just starting out, I don’t want that to happen to you. And it’s for the two reasons I gave:
1) You devalue your words. Those words are going to be used to make money for that site/mag, and you’re not getting any of it. That’s deeply insulting to you, and establishes your effort as worthless. Just as soon as you’re in a position to expect money for your efforts, why wouldn’t they ditch you and move on to the next sucker?
2) You’re encouraging a culture that allows this exploitation to take place. You’re as much a part of it as the unscrupulous editors who line their pockets with your work. When you work for free, you ensure the expectation that others must work for free. And further, you devalue the work of everyone else too. If your words are worth nothing, then my words are worth nothing.
Freelancers have a crappy time of it. I received an email last night from someone who hasn’t been paid by any of the outlets he works for for three months, and doesn’t know what to do. It’s normal in this industry for sites and mags to delay payment to freelancers by as much as they can (usually a minimum of two months), and even then they’ll “forget” to pay you, and not be in any hurry to remember. Accounts Payable will say the editor hasn’t clicked the right button, the editor will say Accounts Payable haven’t processed the payment, and neither will be bothered to rush to fix it until you make a real pain of yourself. Future were hideous at this, with barely a month going by where I didn’t have to send repeated emails and make phone calls to get paid properly. Freelancers tend to notice interesting patterns, like how payments for big articles strangely don’t turn up the wrong side of a financial year. These companies literally don’t care, because as a freelancer you’ve barely any rights. If you have a contract, the chances are it will be a list of ways they can screw you, rather than protect you. And most don’t have a contract at all. If you make a fuss, they don’t need to fire you, pay you severance pay, or risk an employment tribunal. They just don’t call you up to offer work the next day/month. And they know you know that, and they know you’re terrified that if you make too much fuss you’re screwed.
That’s the position people getting paid to work are in. So going into that mire and accepting working for free is endorsing every one of those scummy practices, and encouraging publications to continue not paying people to fill their pages, and their wallets. It’s an insult to you, and it’s an insult to me. And I don’t care how much it helps someone fill a portfolio, it’s the wrong way to fill it. So, like I said,
3) Never work for free for professionals. This is a no compromise position. When you’re starting out, that’s when you must insist on being paid, or walk away. Sure, it may open doors, but they’re doors leading to unscrupulous scumbags who prey on the enthusiastic and the poor. And worse, and this is incredibly serious, not only are you cheapening – even devaluing – your own work, but you’re doing the same for anyone else in the industry. If you work, for free, you make words worth nothing, and that’s a disservice to everyone else.
by John Walker at January 12, 2012 09:27 AM
January 11, 2012
There’s another round of these “tips for young games journalists” floating about at the moment, and they trouble me. Their core appears to be capitulation, rather than principle. So here are some tips for young journalists I’d like to suggest.
1) This isn’t the only job you’re capable of, and you’re not a failure if you choose to leave it. Writing about games seems, on the surface, a dream job. But there’s no such thing as a dream job, and it is of course a great deal of hard work, intermingled with the enormous pleasure of playing games. The industry is a mucky place, and the pay is invariably dreadful. There are many great things about it, but there’s lots that sucks too. Your life can be utterly brilliant without this job.
2) This job is a not a privilege. It’s something you got by being good at what you do – you earned it. Anyone who tells you it’s a privilege is trying to get something from you they shouldn’t have. That’s the language of those who want you to do just a little bit more work than they’re paying you for, or put up with conditions that don’t feel appropriate. If you’re getting work in this industry, the chances are it’s because you’re much better than most the people who try to get it. You need to know that, because the advantage is in your court.
3) Never work for free for professionals. This is a no compromise position. When you’re starting out, that’s when you must insist on being paid, or walk away. Sure, it may open doors, but they’re doors leading to unscrupulous scumbags who prey on the enthusiastic and the poor. And worse, and this is incredibly serious, not only are you cheapening – even devaluing – your own work, but you’re doing the same for anyone else in the industry. If you work, for free, you make words worth nothing, and that’s a disservice to everyone else. I’ve been doing this job for 13 years now, and I still piss people off by asking “How much?” when they say, “Can you do me a favour?” If they phoned a plumber and said, “It’s just one tap, can you do us a favour?” they would be hung up on. Hang up on them.
4) If you’re trying to get into this career because you love playing games, go away and play games. Seriously, you’re wasting everyone’s time. If you love writing, communicating, entertaining and infecting others with your passion, then you’re in the right place.
5) You have a choice. You can be the sort of writer who gains respect through your integrity, honesty, and excellence in writing, or you can combine any of those elements with sucking up to ads people, PRs, or publishers. It’s so tempting to do. If I do them this favour, they’ll do me that favour. But it’s optional, and it never feels good.
6) Stand up to PRs. Everyone is very keen to point out that they’re people too – well of course they are. Most of them are really lovely people – that’s why they get jobs in PR. But something has gone very wrong in this industry, where PRs are now the gatekeepers to information about games, selling it to the highest bidder, screwing over mags or websites that don’t follow their dance, and sending out embargoes from publishers that literally threaten to sue your publication for millions of pounds should you step outside of their rules. Rules they will inevitably not keep themselves. It’s a farce, and it’s only more farcical because all you’re trying to do is give their game some promotion. It only works because every bloody publication capitulates and obeys. Challenge them. Complain. Always be polite, but be firm too. They’re trying to see how much they can get away with.
7) Say no to review trips. I learned this one the hard way, and now will only consider a review trip if I have complete control. Review trips sound amazing – you fly somewhere, probably somewhere warm in America, and get to be the first person in the world to play a game! Except, you play the game in completely inappropriate surroundings, in far too short a time, inevitably accompanied by a PR or developer telling you over your shoulder, “Oh, that will be fixed when we release,” making the job completely impossible to do properly. I will now only say yes to review trips from Valve, because they leave you alone (to the point where you have to figure out how to get out of the building when everyone else has gone home) to get on with it, with no interference. Anyone else has to offer the same conditions.
8) Here’s one every one of these lists will include, but it’s massively important: read. Read and read. Because you’ll absorb, and learn. Reading a great writer who structures a great sentence is infectious. Noticing how writing is good is great for recognising how writing is bad. Actually study. Work out why it is that an article by Kieron Gillen is utterly compelling and entertaining. Absorb how Simon Parkin or Christian Donlan tells you a story. Understand what it is about Tom Bramwell’s writing that makes you feel like you’re his friend. And read the masters, study the all-time greats, the siphoned, hilarious anger of Stuart Campbell, or the astonishing eloquence of Jonathan Nash’s nonsense. Be a sponge to greatness, and then let it infect your own unique, distinct voice.
9) Honour yourself. If something feels wrong, it’s probably wrong, so don’t do it. Say no to it. An editor, a few years back, called me and said, “John, we want you to go to the South of France for a week. They’ll give you the code for the game while you’re there, and you can bring it back to review. We’re asking you because we trust you not to be corrupted by this.” My reply, grimacing in the face of rejecting a free holiday in the South of France was, “The reason you trust me is because I say no to trips like this.” Work hard enough to earn the money to buy a holiday in the South of France. It’ll be worth it.
10) Make a fuss. Good grief, the number of times I’ve not been paid for work, or screwed over in some way, is awful. It’s generally down to incompetence rather than malice, but it’s unacceptable. Don’t roll over. Don’t accept disguised pay reductions. Make a stand – contact your colleagues and have them join you. I’ve literally created temporary unions among freelancers to stand up to employers who have tried to introduce disguised pay cuts, and forced them to back down. You can too.
11) Move on. Everyone’s made mistakes in this industry. I’ve messed up on all the tips I’ve put above. But you can be haunted by your mistakes in very unhelpful ways. I famously screwed up the Force Commander review, twelve years ago, and people still mock me for it. It took me so many years to own that mistake, and it cost me terrible amounts of confidence, and still makes me feel sick, even though I can’t even remember how I got it so wrong. Everyone has a similar story, but don’t let it define you.
12) Care. If you care, all those vital things like an opinion, a voice, a style will come through. You can tell those who don’t care, the contrarians, the compromisers, the corporate copywriters. They’re wretched. Don’t be them.
by John Walker at January 11, 2012 01:42 PM
January 06, 2012
In episode 95 of Rum Doings, we’re re-joined by regular guest Judge Coxcombe. Who receives a rich welcome.
There are Latin grammar lessons, book recommendations for Nick, and words for winkies. John argues against word gender, Martin talks Dick, and the loveliness of quantum mechanics. There are more book reviews, the contentious early versions of the Gospel of Mark, and how John De Lancie wrote the Bible. And are Nick and John… the same person?
We really do ask you to write a review on iTunes. It makes a massive difference, and helps other people to pay attention to the podcast. Thank you to everyone who has – we’ve some lovely reviews. The more that appear, the more likely iTunes is to take us more seriously. And keep on tweeting and so forth. Please – it’s the only thing we ask of you. And don’t forget to give us a million pounds.
Make sure to follow us on Twitter @rumdoings. If you want to email us, you can do that here. If you want to be a “fan” of ours on Facebook, which apparently people still do, you can do that here.
To get this episode directly, right click and save here. To subscribe to Rum Doings click here, or you can find it in iTunes here.
Or you can listen to it right here!
by John Walker at January 06, 2012 09:00 AM
December 30, 2011
Rum Doings Episode 94 begins with quite the clanger. John’s freshly appointed wife reveals she is carrying Nick’s lovechild. (Also, we can’t count and thought this would go out after the New Year.) Which is only appropriate, since this pre-recorded episode (as opposed to those we perform live in your ears) contains our offering advice to our listeners. Our rubbish, rubbish listeners.
John has recently discovered the splendid podcast, My Brother My Brother And Me, and as is always the way of the great artistic minds, wanted to copy it. Incorrectly stating that they no longer take questions from listeners, thus attempting to fill a gap that’s already filled just fine, we begin by suggesting meeting women at refuge shelters. We are keeping it classy.
How to deal with loose skin, survive a mortgage, fake your own death (and indeed get away with your own murder), things to do in the bath, how to marry cats and dogs, and then we move on to just being horrible racists as usual. We consider how much better life is if you don’t live as if you’re constantly about to be burgled or stolen from, and much discussion of wee. We then get a weeny bit more serious and address a final question on social anxiety disorder, with some genuinely sensible advice.
And don’t take our insults too personally – we love you all, even though you’re all so rubbish.
As ever, please consider writing a review on iTunes. It’s a really good way of raising our profile. Thank you to everyone who has – we’ve some lovely reviews. The more that appear, the more likely iTunes is to take us more seriously. And keep on tweeting and so forth. Please – it’s the only thing we ask of you. Oh, and commission us for a radio show.
Make sure to follow us on Twitter @rumdoings. If you want to email us, you can do that here. If you want to be a “fan” of ours on Facebook, which apparently people still do, you can do that here.
To get this episode directly, right click and save here. To subscribe to Rum Doings click here, or you can find it in iTunes here.
Or you can listen to it right here!
by John Walker at December 30, 2011 04:08 PM
December 22, 2011
After losing our first start to episode 93, we attempt to begin all over again by trying to get the cardboard box burier out of jail. John explains how difficult it is to not buy a diamond ring, Australian rum that Nick pretends is nice, and there’s the best bottle ugg-gugg-gugging OF ALL TIME.
Nick prepares himself for Chrimbles, and then we get onto the ancient news of the idiotic reaction to Jeremy Clarkson’s comments on The One Show. And then we’re suddenly invaded by the potty-mouth of Nick’s wife, which seems to break Nick’s brain. She is the Irene Adler to Nick’s Holmes.
We explain why Rum Doings can never end, how John gives up on EVERYTHING, including television because of his annoying wife. And we spend some time pulling apart David Cameron’s ridiculous speech, on why the King James Bible is a terrible thing, and why Christianity does not take well to being institutionalised.
Learn why Judith is not clever for doing a wee-wee in her potty, the special toilet swap day, and then things get perhaps a little unpleasant as we discuss labia, and then John says a very dirty word.
As ever, please consider writing a review on iTunes. It’s a really good way of raising our profile. Thank you to everyone who has – we’ve some lovely reviews. The more that appear, the more likely iTunes is to take us more seriously. And keep on tweeting and so forth. Please – it’s the only thing we ask of you. Oh, and commission us for a radio show.
Make sure to follow us on Twitter @rumdoings. If you want to email us, you can do that here. If you want to be a “fan” of ours on Facebook, which apparently people still do, you can do that here.
To get this episode directly, right click and save here. To subscribe to Rum Doings click here, or you can find it in iTunes here.
Or you can listen to it right here!
by John Walker at December 22, 2011 04:58 PM
